Debra gets firedup
by enthusedsilver
Summary: My friends wrote a fanfic about Margaret/Debra from the apprentice! Please R & R, femslash, don't like don't read.


Sir Alan Sugar sighed and looked longingly at Margaret. "Will she ever even notice me for more than I am?" he thought to himself, as he throbbed a little bit. "I want nothing more than to be in her". "But let's get to work, it's time to fire another contestant". Focus is a key part of business, so he tried to avoid her gaze or else he knew he wouldn't be able to control himself with regards to the task at hand. Kate, James, Lorraine, Yasmina and Debra sat before him wondering who would get fired and who would proceed to the next round. What the cameras didn't show is that the person who got fired got a romantic night in with Nick. As Sir Alan gazed at the contestants Nick's hand found his knee and pointedly stared at Debra, her mouth was good for more than one thing, that's for sure. "After much debating, we've decided Debra you're fired." Debra was inconsolable, only one person knew a way to solve her pain…Nick entered the room. "Hey Debbie" he said, his lips quivering at the mere thought of what was about to happen. "Hey Nicky", sobbed Debra, into her copy of her CV, that she kept with her at all times, her top button now undone. "I just don't know how I'll be able to go on after this", she said. "Debbie, Debbie", said Nick, shaking his head in amusement. "You don't know how many candidates I've comforted and tutored on to great things. But it comes with a price – it depends on how far you're willing to go to further your career". "Hmm?" whimpered Debra. She was intrigued, but wasn't entirely sure where this was about to go. "What did you have in mind…?" she inquired, her clit beginning to throb at the mere suggestion of business corruption. "Well," said Nick, slowly moving his hand across her shoulder. "Close your eyes and think of the Stock Market." "Okay…" said Debra, not sure of what to expect. Nick moved towards her, as he manoeuvred his hand across her torso, slowly unbuttoning the other buttons on her blouse. "I'm so glad you're not wearing a tie, those are a nightmare to undo," said Nick, thinking of the debacle the week before with Howard. "I always wear as little as possible," came the response from Debra. Despite the discomfort, Debra found herself somewhat aroused. Suddenly, a knock came at the door. "Shit!" thought Nick. Not prone to swearing, Debra knew the situation must be severe. Margaret walked in, with a tray of cocktails. "Hey Debz, even though you've been fired there's no reason we can't…" she trailed off, as she realised Nick was in the room already. Debrah turned a bright shade of crimson, as she had so often wondered what would happen if Margaret had walked into the room. "Oh!" came Margaret's quiet response. "I wasn't expecting YOU to be here," she said pointedly in Nick's direction. "But seeing as you're here, cocktails all around! I may pretend to be an intellectual dragon when the cameras are rolling, but as Nick will tell you, I really know how to swing when I get into it." "This could go even better than I was anticipating," thought Nick. Unbeknownst to him, Debra was thinking a very similar thing. Debra sashayed over to Margaret, not even needing the alcohol that was already pumping through her system. Planting her lips onto Margaret's face, Margaret's limbs turned to jelly as her tongue quickly worked its way into her mouth. Nick looked on with a sense of jealousy, and thought "you bitch! I was here first." He would get up, if it wasn't for the fact that the tryst between the two of them had turned him on so. Margaret bent over and took her shoes and socks off. "I always start with the feet," she explained to Debra. Debra didn't care, all she knew is that she wanted her in her, ASAP! "Would you…" never before had the 23-year-old been at a loss for words, but this was new territory for her. Margaret, more experienced in this matter than even the FTSE, worked her hands around to the clasp of Debra's bra. "Oh, shut the fuck up," said Margaret, speaking the words the nation had been desperate to say for weeks. Debra was turned on, never having been spoken to in such a way before. Usually, she would have been in complete control, but she almost savoured the idea of being dominated. Mere moments later, Debra and Margaret's clothes were lying in an untidy heap on the floor.

"So, do I… you'll have to um, instruct me," stuttered Debra, trembling with a mix of excitement and terror, wondering if her deepest, darkest fantasies were about to come to life. Margaret shut her the fuck up by sticking her tongue in her mouth. "Mmf," stammered Debra, trying to talk. "No!" shouted Margaret. "You're mine. This is my time. You're merely an instrument of my desire. This is the way business works," said Margaret, as she pulled Debra's hair, and manoeuvred her around to a position where she could spank her. Debra looked at Margaret, somewhat shocked, as she noticed for the first time that Margaret was clad in leather, something she clearly sported underneath her regular black suit. Words could not even begin to explain how turned on Debra had become, and it was at this moment that her conscious finally succumbed to what her subconscious had always known – she wanted old women **in her**. Trembling, she lowered herself onto the empty cocktail glass that Margaret had finished in one fell swig. "Have… have you done this with many others?" inquired Debra. "Look love, this is nothing new for me. I've been in the biz, as it were, for over 50 years now. This is how Dita von Teese got started, this is how we got Gina G on the road, this is even how Cherie Blair got going. Not to mention Queen Lez herself, Anna McCall of 201 Harborne Lane." "Wow, Anna McCall?!" exclaimed Debra. "Then I know this is going to go places." And with that, Margaret launched her hips forward. Somehow, during all this chit-chat, Margaret had managed to secure a strap-on around her able hips. "You're in for a treat," exclaimed Margaret. "I've had to have two hip replacements just due to the hardcore thrusting I get up to in this boardroom. Alan don't have shit on me." Debra let out a little squeal, not expecting even half of what was now occurring. It was colder than she ever could have imagined, as the titanium strap-on worked its way in and out of her gaping hole. "Ai… ai… AI!" screamed Debra, as she worked her way ever closer to the elusive "o". Margaret smiled sceptically, remembering her first lesbian climax. They did things better in 1962, that much she knew for sure. All the while, they failed to realise that Nick was still watching, his keen eyes watching from the corner, his pants round his knees. "N… nuh… NICK!" screeched Debra, as the realisation came almost as fast as she did. "Yes, my child?" came the reply. "This is what you signed up for – didn't you read the small print in the BBC contract?" Debra smiled wistfully, remembering her past innocence – before lesbianism, before brutal boardroom rape, before fame. Never again would she know the calm, sweet frolicking of Essex sales meetings, her mouth able to keep her completely in control. This was it. This was pure, total domination. Doll Domination, some would say. When she grew up, she wanted **boobies**. But a part of her, deep deep down, loved it. This was all she ever wanted, and she had never felt more alive than when Margaret was ploughing her sweet, freshly fallen snow. Finally, she finished cumming, and Margaret slurped up the last of her sweet tang. "That was… acceptable," said Margaret. "But to be honest, I'm looking forward to Kate."

Exhausted, lying in emotional tatters on the floor, Margaret and Debra gave each other a look of pure lust, with just a hint of hatred and resent, for having fired her despite the clear bond that existed between them. Finishing himself off, Sir Alan was never more grateful for having installed his security cameras in the boardroom, as he had seen every last kiss, lick and thrust, not to mention having recorded it for later viewing. "I just hope 2010's lot are half as good as this," he sighed to himself. Nevertheless, the orgasm was bittersweet, as he was living vicariously through Debra's pale flesh. He knew he would never get to be a part of Margaret's life beyond the television persona, as he was neither a hot girl nor an ancient Egyptian scroll. He would have spent more time crying, had he not been too desperate to rewind the tape and watch it all over again.


End file.
